


Over-expectations

by ornithia



Series: Had to be You [11]
Category: Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ornithia/pseuds/ornithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First impressions at Gygax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over-expectations

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble prompts, based upon roleplay at [my SG Jetfire roleplaying blog](http://i-willraisehell.tumblr.com/)

He’d expected someone … bigger, to be honest. Taller, broader - perhaps Jetfire was biased, because he was, after all, a very large mech in his own right. But the diminutive 4-wheeler could hardly be considered a threat. This meek grounder couldn’t possibly be the one mech to have pushed Prime’s fury past the point of execution, into uncharted, experimental territory - could he?

He observed the banished scientist a while longer - his colors were distracting enough. About as distracting as his posture was terrible. Somewhere in between the consideration of both these traits Jetfire became aware of the slim, delicate structures that perched themselves upon the back of his subject of interest. The shuttle stared; wing-like configurations were hardly a rare commodity on those with terrain vehicle alts. What was rare, however, was the amount of articulation evident in this particular pair. They moved; they hitched. Each “winglet” seemed to correspond with some shift in the grounder’s body. Captivated, the flier was not aware of his own responses, coming from his own set of full-fledged wings. Not until two bright, glowing optics darted directly in his direction. Their owner snarled.

"Are you done yet? Because I’d like to relay a message to Prime. To stop. Sending. Me. His. Stupid. _Useless_. _**Transport** **drone**.”_

Prime _hadn’t_ sent Jetfire - the flier had come out here of his own volition, for his own curious fulfillment. All but forgotten in the wake of those “two little words” which had spilled forth, oh-so carelessly from behind the grounder’s mask. Now ‘it’ lay pressed against the ground, their owner’s whimpers muffled by it as the heavy weight of the shuttle’s thruster pressed into the still-sensitive scars of his back. Jetfire grimaced, still watching, still responding to the flutter of half-wings as they twitched in surrender beneath him.

"Don’t _tempt_ me.”

He crooned, less than soothing in his tone as he applied heat that was more than just a little bit suggestive under premise.


End file.
